Just the Beginning
by Jenna Cassie Herdz
Summary: What if Christine couldn't leave Erik? What if Raoul couldn't lose Christine? What if the performance of Don Juan was just the beginning?
1. Returning to Her Angel

**A/N: **Ok, let's try this again...Same story, same plot, but some tweaks from the last time. I knew that when I wrote this story it was cheesy, corny, unrealistic, and well, all around crappy. The way I wrote it, the way i presented it...all shit. some of you...more bluntly than most...pointed this out to me. i thank some of you, but a couple of you sort of decided to take constructed criticism to a whole other level. i felt like you were attacking me a bit. so...not that i'm easily hurt, i'd appreciate it if ya kept the insults to a minimum. and with that...

welcome to my newer version of another Phantom of the Opera fanfic! i hope its WAY better than the last time i posted this. Disclaimer: i do not own Phantom of the Opera

_**Chapter 1: Returning to Her Angel**_

Christine clutched to Raoul's arm as he pushed the gondola across the foggy lake, keeping her balance on the boat the way a good dancer should, but it was her emotions that were shaken. She hesitantly looked back at the figure standing at the other side of the lake. She heard him scream to himself and the crashing of glass as the boat rounded the corner. A tear ran down her cheek as she looked forward again. She heard the voices of the mob coming to attempt to find the man she was leaving behind.

"Angel," she whispered and Raoul shot a puzzled look at her.

"Christine?" he called with a frown. She looked at him and realized her true feelings. She couldn't leave him, not like this. She had told him she would show him that he wasn't alone, and now she was sailing away with Raoul. She realized that, even though she feared him, a part of her still cared for him as her Angel of Music. The man she was leaving behind needed her, and she knew she would never be rid of him, even if she left now with Raoul. She had to keep her promise.

"Turn around," she ordered, breathlessly.

"What?" he frowned as he stopped pushing the boat, mid-stroke.

"Go back," she rephrased. "I cannot leave him like this. The mob will _kill_ him."

"Christine," he breathed, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Consider what you are saying. You want to go back to the man whom you fear most. For God's sake, Christine, he _murdered_ people!"

"A part of me still cares for him, Raoul," she argued desperately. "Do not ask me to explain, please, just take me back. After you leave me at the shore I want you to go home. Forget about me, about everything that's happened."

He stared at her in shock, not believing what he was hearing. Forget her?! Forget what happened?! Was she listening to herself?! She placed her hands gently on his face and tenderly kissed his lips then looked deep into his eyes, hearing the mob coming closer.

"Please, my friend," she whispered. "Do this last thing for me?"

Hearing those words sent a spear through Raoul's heart. "My friend," she had said. He knew that he'd lost her to _him_, as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself. He knew it might happen during the performance of Don Juan, but not here, not now, after he'd just rescued her from that _thing's_ clutches. Still, he couldn't say "no" to her.

He bowed his head and grasped the pole he was pushing the boat with in both hands and turned around to row them back. He began to push the boat back toward the shore as Christine wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. He savored the embrace, knowing it would probably be the last time she would favor him with her touch.

Rounding the corner, Christine searched for the man she had almost left behind, but all she saw was masses of broken glass scattered on the shore. When they were close enough, she jumped out of the boat and trudged through the shallow water to the shore.

"Christine, he's gone," Raoul called, praying she would give up and return to him. "Let me take you back, before the mob gets here."

She stood silently on the shore, gazing slowly around the lair. She noticed that a curtain had fallen where a mirror had been and walked toward it, a frown creasing her brow. She pulled the curtain back in one, fluid, graceful motion. She felt cool air kiss her tear soaked cheeks and flow through her thick, chestnut curls of hair. She looked back at Raoul who didn't even try again to bring her back. He could see from the way she smiled warmly that she was saying good-bye forever.

"Good-bye, Raoul," she murmured. He nodded, fearing that the lump in his throat would be heard if he spoke.

Christine turned to look back down the dark secret passageway and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She stepped through the threshold, letting the curtain drape over the entrance now behind her. It instantly became dark, but she knew it would probably be more dangerous to stop than to keep going. She shivered as she walked cautiously through the pitch black stone hallway. Her eyes caught a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel and strained to see if there was anything around it or holding it…Perhaps her Angel of Music? This thought made her heart flutter but she kept her slow pace. How would he react to seeing her? She couldn't imagine what he would do.

"Angel?" she called, softly. The small glow of light became brighter and brighter as she continued and she rounded a small corner to find the light coming from several candles in a small room.

The room had sheet music scattered across the floor and a table with writing supplies. On the far wall sat a small piano, which had sheet music all around it and on it as well, and on the other side of the room was a huge mirror.

She searched the room from where she stood, wondering if her Angel had come this way and where he would hide in such a small room. Unless there was another secret passageway through here? She took a small step in and leaned into the room with her upper body and looked around again. Her heart pounded in fear that he _had_ gotten out of here somehow and she was too late.

"Hello?" she called timidly then heard some rustling to her left, near the piano. She shot her gaze in that direction and saw a figure scrambling to stand up from a crouching position, his back facing her. She let out a sigh of relief and started to walk toward him, slowly. Her hand came up and touched his shoulder, gently when he didn't turn to look at her. She felt him tense up as he straightened and he finally turned around, slowly to look at her.

Christine let out a small gasp as she saw tears soaking his face. His breathing was erratic, as if he had been sobbing for some time. She felt her eyes well up with tears once again and suddenly realized that as she gazed at him, she no longer trembled in fear at the sight of his face. She started wringing her hands as she gazed down at them.

"I'm so sorry, Angel," she began, breathlessly. "I am deeply sorry. I didn't realize where I truly belonged until I took one more look at Raoul. I told him to bring me back here. I told you I would not leave you alone, and even if I had left, you would have been with me, always."

Her Angel stood, stone faced as he looked at her and she cautiously looked up at him. Try as he might to hide his sorrow and pain, she could still see it in his eyes, and she hoped that her decision would cheer him up, even a little.

"I-I've decided that…I'm going to keep my word," she sputtered. It was then that he frowned in confusion, and she knew she had to elaborate. "I'm going to show you that you're not alone. I'm not going to leave you like this."

His eyes shot wide and he stood still for a moment, not knowing exactly what to do or say. She had come back. Why? She had just apologized, saying she wasn't going to leave him alone like this. Now she was standing before him as he stared back at her and she wasn't walking away. After all of this, he finally had his prayers answered. She had come back to him and she was saying she wasn't going to leave him. But she _had_ left him. She was going to go with Raoul before, and he could see that she loved _him_, not this monster before her.

"Do not lie to me, Christine," he nearly snarled. "You love Chagny, and that will never change, even if you stay with me."

"But, Angel, I _do_ care for you," Christine said, desperately. She had expected this, but she would not have it if she had come here for nothing.

"Please, Christine," he sighed, turning to look away from her pleading eyes. "Do not make this any harder for me, or yourself. You know I love you too much to make you live with…_this_." He gestured to his face. "Go, and leave me."

"But, Angel--"

"Go!" he barked, turning to her finally with an angry expression. She took a step back but as he turned back to the wall, expecting to hear her footsteps echoing down the passageway, she stood tall, determined.

"No," she said, flatly and he turned back to her with wide eyes filled with disbelief.

"What?"

"I'll not leave you this way," she rephrased. "I love Raoul, but I am _here_, aren't I? Doesn't that show that I care for _you_ as well?"

He straightened, his face dropping from shock to thought. Sorrow still filled his heart, even as she said she cared for him. It was the "as well" part that had stabbed at his heart, not to mention the clench he felt in his chest when she had said she loved Raoul. But he had to admit that she _was_ here now, and not with that fop. Perhaps he had been right all along. Perhaps fear _could_ turn to love.

He met her eyes as she stared at him, expectantly. In all honesty, she expected him to turn her away again, but she feared what she would do then. Raoul should be above ground by now, and it was too late to turn back now. She stayed still as he slowly and cautiously stepped toward her and she began wringing her hands, nervously. She cast her eyes down, not wanting him to see that she was afraid he may hurt her or send her back. His hand came to her chin and he gently grasped it to bring her gaze to his. He examined her tear filled eyes, searching for something, but Christine knew not what. He suddenly slid his arms around her and gently held her, and Christine let out a sigh of relief, wrapping her arms around him in return.

"I'm sorry, Christine," he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt her arms wrap around him. "I didn't mean for this to happen the way it did."

"I know," she whispered back, and pushed him back to look into his eyes. She knew she had built a wall when she left with Raoul, and she also knew that Erik had built one as well to defend himself. She just hoped that this would give them a chance to tear those walls down and that she could come to care for him as the man he truly was, and not her Angel as she _thought_ he was.

"Angel?" she murmured, timidly.

"Yes?"

"What is your real name?"

He straightened and replied in a hollow voice, "Erik."

"You have no last name?" she wondered.

"If I do, I do not remember it."

Christine nodded then smiled slightly.

"Erik," she tried.

He smiled slightly, but it quickly faded then turned to the table. He stepped toward the table and picked something up from its surface then turned back to her. He held the ring Raoul had given to her which she had in turn given to Erik and she felt her heart clench in panic as he approached her again.

"I still have this ring…" he said, trailing off. Christine gazed at him meekly as he lifted her left hand.

"Maybe--" she cut herself off when he shot a wide eyed gaze at her, just as he was about to place the ring on her finger. "Maybe, we should use another ring?"

"Why?" Erik wondered honestly. "I was going to use it…before."

"Yes," Christine agreed. "That is what I mean. We should leave _this_ ring…in the past."

Erik frowned at her in confusion, but looked down at the ring. He couldn't help but feel anger well in his heart again. Raoul had given her this ring, and in more ways than one, it represented her rejection of himself. He realized that she was right. They couldn't use this. If they did, it would remind him of everything that had happened tonight, and he had enough things to remind him of that.

Nodding he placed the ring back on the table and took both of her hands in his.

"Very well," he agreed. "We will…find a different ring to use."

Christine nodded, and couldn't help but gaze at her hands in his.

"I love you," he murmured and she looked up at him with wide eyes as he met her gaze. "I will protect you as long as you let me."

Christine smiled, slightly and squeezed his hands.

**A/N:** well, have i improved it any? i did realize that i didn't stay true to the characters when i wrote this the first time, but when i originally wrote this story i was total fangirl. not that im not anymore, i just wasn't too set on keeping the character's personalities intact while coming up with this plotline. i was in a rushed state of writing, i guess. but i have more time now...i can fix it. reviews r appreciated.


	2. The Viscount's Plan

**A/N:** Ok, so i finally got around to fixing this chapter. I hope Meg seems more concerned for Christine this time around. someone pointed that out to me in the last version and i realized it was true. i couldn't help Raoul's character though, i had to make him all mad and pissed beyond all recovory, sorry bout that. Enjoy and review!

_**Chapter 2: The Viscount's Plan**_

Raoul didn't take his eyes from the curtain, hoping that Christine would walk back through it and back into his arms. He stood in the boat, hearing the mob coming closer, but refusing to shove off the pole he was leaning on, for fear he wouldn't be ready when Christine came back. He knew they were looking for her as well as the Phantom, but did they know he had come here? What would they think, seeing him standing in an empty boat on the shore? That he had given her to this thing, this monster?

His questions were soon to be answered as he heard the mob directly behind him. He turned his head just enough to see Meg Giry leading the crowd of stage-hands and policemen out of the corner of his eye. She walked through the water and next to the boat as he turned back to the curtain and she looked up at him.

"Monsieur Vicomte?" she called. "Where is Christine? Where is the Opera Ghost?"

He said nothing and turned back to stare at the curtain. Realizing she would not get a clear answer if _any_ from him, she walked onto the shore and up the walkways. She passed a very small room with a manikin of Christine which had a veil on its head. She took a glance at it before passing by it completely.

She ran into an elegantly decorated bedroom where there was a huge bed in the shape of a golden swan and red silken sheets. Above the bed in the shape of a circle was a black glittery canopy that could be lowered by a rope next to the head of the bed. Next to the foot of the bed was a small table and atop it was a music box with a little monkey dressed in Persian robes and holding symbols in its hands.

However, it wasn't the music box that had caught her attention and drew her closer to the table, but what sat next to it. A mask of white porcelain and would only cover the right half of the face if worn.

She knelt down next to the table and carefully lifted the mask from the table's surface. Her hands shaking a bit she examined the thing, running shaky fingers over the smoothness. She stood up and exited the bedroom. When in front of the mob she held the mask up for all of them to see.

"He is not here, but I found his mask!" she called to the crowd. Raoul looked away from the curtain and stared at the mask, the wheels in his head beginning to spin once more.

"Stupid girl!" shouted someone from the crowd. "He's probably cursed it and left it here so that anyone touching it will have a curse upon them! Put it back, before you are cursed forever, little one!"

Meg brought the mask down to stare at it in terror. A curse? Could he really _do_ that?

"No!" Raoul shouted as he leaped off of the boat and ran to the little dancer. She stared at him in shock as he yanked the mask from her hands and held it to the crowd again.

"Do you not see?!" he questioned the mob. "He has not _meant_ to leave this here! He will come back to retrieve it and when he does we will be ready for him and make him tell us where he has taken Mademoiselle Daaé!"

The crowd murmured, unsure is Raoul was right and their suspicious natures getting the best of them. Raoul looked around at the crowd with a slight sneer. He couldn't believe they doubted him.

"Listen to me!" he called, stepping down the stairs to stand on the shore of the lake. "He is no ghost. Nor is he a magician. He is a man, nothing more. He can be taken and killed. But I cannot do this alone. Help me and we will bring him to justice and rescue Mademoiselle Daaé!"

The crowd cheered in agreement and Raoul grinned, and turned from the crowd to look down at the mask and as he walked back up the stairs leading to the room, he whispered, "_Then_ I will have my final revenge on this monster that _stole _my Little Lotte away from me."

Meg looked at him as he passed her with a look of terror still glazed over her face. She had heard what the viscount had threatened as he had passed and did _not_ think that anyone should anger the Phantom any further. He had killed before, surely he had no qualms about killing again. They should leave it to the police. They would surely catch him and find rescue Christine. Grasping Raoul's arm, her expression changed from terror to desperation.

"Please, Monsieur Vicomte! Do not anger the Phantom! He is gone, we should all be thankful we still have our lives! Please, let us leave this place and let the police take care of everything. Surely they will find Christine and bring the Phantom to justice!"

Raoul shot a look at her that made her jump and pull her hands from his arm as if burned. He realized by her reaction that his expression was harsh and forcibly softened it. He placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder before speaking.

"I know you are Christine's best friend," he began. "Do you not want her to be safe? Do you wish to see her again?"

"Of course, but--"

"Then we must find this thing and capture him in order to find out where he has taken her, even if it means risking our lives. The police are brilliant, but this man is highly illusive. You know that. I will find her, Meg. Is that understood?"

She opened her mouth then closed it and decided to nod and he handed her the mask.

"Put this back where you found it," he instructed. She nodded again and walked back into the bedroom to set the thing on the table, next to the music box. Raoul turned and faced the mob, their torches still ablaze, their guns ready to fire.

"Men!" he began, addressing the crowd. "This so called 'Phantom' or Opera Ghost' has eluded us for the last time! When he appears to find hi mask, we must be quick if we are to capture him!"

"But Monsieur Vicomte!" shouted a stage hand. "The ghost may come from anywhere! How will we be the quicker if we do not know from which direction he will emerge?"

"I know where he will come from," Raoul assured them then gestured to the curtain at the end of the walkway. "He will emerge from the secret passageway hidden behind that curtain!"

"Vicomte!" another shouted. "Why do we not go into the passageway ourselves? We might catch this murderer there!"

The mob became anxious at the man's words and started up the shore toward the passageway. However, Raoul stopped him with his explanation.

"No, everyone! If we wait for him here, he will either have to go back through the passageway or through us from the lake to get away! Once he walks through the curtain, we shall have someone block the entrance so that he may not escape that way."

The plan sunk into the crowd's minds and they became a bit nodded in approval to each other.

Meg Had been watching the scene from the threshold of the bedroom and felt that the whole plan was wrong. They should go back to the surface and let the police deal with the Phantom and finding Christine. It would all be taken care of properly. Raoul would only make it worse if he went after the opera ghost himself. He would get himself killed, and Christine, possibly. She didn't want anyone to die.

Raoul could not accept the rejection of a woman he had loved since childhood for a monster she had feared more than death itself. He silently vowed that he would capture this thing and, kill him with his own two hands.

**A/N:** well, did i do ok in fixing it? (no attacking please?) review please


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